Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
“Where. Is. She?”
Marshall Lake grabs my arm, throwing my balance off as he hauls me to a skidding stop.
“Slow down,” he growls, getting in my face. “You need to take a damned breath, count to ten, and turn in your sidearm.”
Glancing down at his hand, my jaw clenches loud enough to pop.
“I’m going to give you one warning. You should get your hand off of me. And I’m not counting to ten. You get my drift?”
I’m about five seconds from knocking everyone the fuck out of the way.
“Easy there, Stallone, she’s being interrogated. I’m working on this.”
“Interrogated,” I choke, wrenching my arm away from his. “She didn’t do any fucking thing wrong.”
“I know,” he says evenly. “I’m taking care of everything, the charges are very obviously falsified. Now I need for whatever monster has taken over your body to give back the jokester we all know.”
I narrow my eyes, unmasking my fury, letting him see the man he’s never met before today.
“Guess that’s about as likely to happen as you giving me flowers,” he mutters.
“Funeral flowers,” I snark, then I drop my voice low.
“You can say whatever you want.” I clip, my pulse throbbing in my temples as I lean in.
“But I’m dead serious, and don’t see that changing any time soon.
Then there’s no reason for her to be here, and there’s no reason for her to be in there alone.
So you need to take me to her right. Fucking. Now.”
He glances at the officer waiting to take my gun. “He’s had a rough thirty-six hours. I’ll make sure he stays on his best behavior.”
I eject the magazine from my sidearm, clear the chamber and shove the weapon toward the officer who collects personal items belonging to anyone admitted into the inner sanctum of the facility.
The man won’t look me in the eyes as he catalogs my gun.
Good fucking thing he’s nose to paper. He might really be worried if he saw how serious I was about getting to my girl.
“This way,” another officer says crisply, turning on her boot to lead me into the bowels of the small precinct.
The building is old. The tiles worn from millions of shoe treads. The air is cold and unforgiving and all I can think about is the fact that Rosalie does not belong here.
Every step down the corridor makes my muscles tighten more, until I start to crack like thin ice.
“How long has she been here?” I glare at the boss’s profile as he falls in step with me.
“Twelve hours.”
Razor blades lodge in my throat.
All the hours we chased our asses looking for Beast she was here. Alone. Scared.
After she’d gotten SWATTED.
“Where is everyone else?” I demand as we pass a bullpen. Several officers turn to stare as we stride through.
“Evan’s in a holding cell,” Marshall says, expression taut. Shaking his head, he adds, “I’m getting him out next, but he resisted arrest, so I’m having to pull some strings.”
I don’t reply because the woman stops in the hallway and pushes open a heavy wooden door. “This is the observation room. You can wait here until Detective Pacer is done.”
She wastes no time hustling off, heading back to the front of the building and someone calls Marshall’s name.
“Play it smart,” he says, giving me a hard look before heading into an office to join the man and closing the door.
Alone at last. Now I can get down to business.
The darkened room smells like old coffee. And as I anticipated, the far end of the narrow space holds several chairs facing a one-way mirror.
It’s what I find on the other side of the glass that slams into my heart, knocking me back.
Rosalie is ashen, shaking and tiny in the metal chair.
My fuse disintegrates when the man in the room with her grabs her arm in a brutal hold.
“Bastard,” I snarl as I rip open the door. Moving without thought, vision narrowed to a red fucking tunnel, I charge out of the observation room.
Easy, I tell myself, but fuck that.
Wrenching the door open, I explode into the room. “Do. Not. Touch. Her.”
Before either of them register what’s happening, I’m already on the man, snatching the detective by the collar of his shirt.
“Hey!” he screeches.
The ugly loafers he’s wearing scrape across the tile as I drive him into the corner.
Single minded.
Protect. Her.
Guard what’s mine.
Trembling and sweating, the asshole is gaping like a fish, and I want nothing more than to make him think twice about even looking at a female again.
“You like scaring women, big guy?”
“N-no.”
Barely restraining myself, I shake him hard enough to rattle his teeth. “You think that’s a game? Intimidating women get your rocks off? I bet a man like you jacks off thinking about something like this, don’t you?”
Whimpering through pinched lips, his hands come up, palms out.
But I’m past reasoning.
“I’ll teach you what scared is, motherfucker.”
He wheezes, tries to twist out of my fighting grip, eyes darting toward the door.
“Who the hell,” he wheezes, “do you think you are coming in here—”
“I’m your worst nightmare.”
Seething, I haul him up on his toes, close enough for him to see the unhinged beast behind my eyes.
I was known for being calm. Controlled. Not any more.
“P–put me down.”
“Pacer you shit!” a voice bellows from outside the door. “Get the fuck out here!”
With a vile curse I shove him toward the hallway.
Calm down, J. Breathe. Get the animal on the leash.
My heart is flying, my legs heavy like I’ve just run through hell.
I would, to get to her.
Rosalie’s expression of gratitude and relief breaks my fucking soul in half.
This is dangerous. Whatever this is, I don’t know if I can control it.
“Babe,” I rasp through aching vocal cords.
Her eyes are wet, her lips parted. Blinking rapidly, she’s coming down from the shock of the last few minutes. I want nothing more than to hold her, breathe her in to make sure she’s alive.
But I’m still twitching.
My hands tingling from choking the man.
Right now it feels too risky to touch her.
“I saw through the glass,” I say hoarsely, dragging in air through my nose. “When I realized what he was doing, I nearly tore the damn wall down.”
“Thank heavens you’re safe,” she whispers. “I knew you’d come for me if you could.”
“I came as soon as I could.”
With a jagged sob, Rosalie. launches at me. She hits my chest full-force. “I thought you’d been taken or worse.”
“No, but Beast is missing.” It rips a hole in me to say that.
She hugs me tighter. “We’ll find him.”
Her words steal my last ounce of resistance. My fierce, fragile, beautiful girl.
“My Rosalie,” I half-growl, half-whisper into her hair, trying to get the monster inside of me back into its cage.
“Justice,” she counters as she sniffs.
There’s a shake to my voice, when I tease her. “You sure know how to get in trouble.”
She nods against my chest, laughing weakly, and for a second I let myself breathe her in until my heart slows enough to remember her ribs.
“Damn it.” I ease my arms, skimming my palms up her arms, checking for damage. “Your ribs were hurting. I forgot.”
“I’m fine,” she says, voice husky and shaky as mine. “Kind of forgot about them with all the drama. When I found out you were missing, I nearly went crazy.”
I cradle her face between my hands, thumbs brushing her damp cheeks. My throat feels raw, my body is twitchy. “I’m sorry, I’m here now.”
God, I want to be worthy.
Never believed I’d trust myself to be that for someone though.
But here we are.
Inches apart. Her breath tangles with mine. She’s soft where I’m hard, warm where I’m ice. And I’m done pretending.
“I need to kiss you,” I whisper with my throat stinging, my fingers cradle around her cheek. “Right. Now.”
“Thank god, because I don’t think I can stand it if you don’t.”
Her answer is a rush of air and fast words, and a beat later, I’m closing the gap between us.
All the emotions of rescuing her from the industrial complex come back with a rush.
She holds onto my tactical vest, and I let my fingers curl around her neck. When my thumb finds her pulse, lightning shoots through every nerve I’ve got left.
I need Rosalie. Need to possess her in every way a man can.
She whimpers when I tilt her head back into my palm and it takes a force of extreme willpower to pull my mouth away when all I want to do is bite my way down her neck.
A rumbled groan comes from my throat. “I need to talk to you. Not here.”
She shivers, whispers something back, but I’m already lost. Taking her delicious mouth again, tasting her desire.
When I pull back, again, I hold her tightly to my chest. “So sorry, this happened to you, baby.”
“It’s okay. Now that you’re here everything is okay.”
Jesus. Now I can’t give the team guys shit.
I’ve been hit in the face by the love brick.
My right hand finds her hip and squeezes hard, possessively claiming what’s mine.
She moans, twists her fingers into my shirt, and I swear I’m seconds from losing every shred of discipline I’ve got left.
She pulls back just enough to plant a hand on my chest plate and push me. “Stop. You have to stop.”
As I drag my thumb across her damp bottom lip, I breathe roughly. “I’m glad one of us has some sense, because I don’t. Not when it comes to you.”
Her eyes go wide. She glances at the one-way mirror, whispers something about tearing my clothes off, and I bite back a groan, sliding my open mouth along her neck.
Tone husky, I say, “We need to get somewhere alone. Fast.”
“Did you pay my bail?” she asks, grinning. “Or is this a conjugal visit?”
Lord. This girl. A conjugal visit? Only she would think of that.
“The charges have been dropped. Courtesy of Agile.” I squeeze her hips, forcing my voice steady when I’m an earthquake inside. “Breaking and entering charge is bogus. We’ve got the videos to clear you.”
“What about the m-murder charge?” she stumbles over the word.
Casting a glance toward the one-way glass, I say, “Let’s talk about this when we’re alone. Don’t worry your pretty head.”
“Oh my god, I love you.”
The way her eyes widen as the words slip out of her, tell me she made a mistake.
But god, how that mistake set up in my marrow. It’s a hot, electric sensation that energizes me.